The Autosexual
by wordweaver93
Summary: Thirteen finds desire where she least expects. ThirteenxThirteen pairing. I know, a little odd, but work with me.


**A/N: **It's been sooooo long, but I'm back! My friend and I have this joke about how Thirteen twincest is the most epic thing ever, and I figured that since the House writer's aren't going to do it, I should. I guess it's not technically twincest, but it's ThirteenxThirteen, so it's all good. Usual apologies for typos and grammar and the like. Enjoy!

* * *

Thirteen switched off the hot water and allowed the the tub to drain as she stepped tentatively from the shower, shivering when the cool air of her apartment came into contact with her skin. She dried herself off quickly with a warm cotton towel and water ceased to drip gingerly down the length of her body. Moving to the mirror, Thirteen glanced at herself in all of her bare glory, and thought of how after dating Foreman for so long, she longed quite desperately for the touch of a woman.

Thirteen had been searching for someone to ground her, and Foreman had simply been _there_. She was vulnerable, a rare occurrence for her, and he had simply been the one to see it. She forgot about her ever so slight preference of women over men, forgot about her future fears. Thirteen even allowed him to call her Remy. But Foreman was just a safety blanket, never something more, and when he began to take advantage of the fact that he held power over her, he made one fatal mistake: not realizing that Thirteen saw what he did. She ended it there. She resolved not to act as some man's plaything, as the girl who submitted and was trained. Thirteen's life was not a Shakespearian comedy (though perhaps a tragedy), and she was not a shrew in need of taming.

But following her break up with Foreman, Thirteen realized that finding someone she could confide in proved to be quite difficult. Foreman was present as some of the most significant events of her adult life unfolded; he saw as everything occurred, and therefore Thirteen had no need to tell him a thing. But Thirteen didn't want Foreman. In retrospect, she never wanted Foreman at all. Instead, she found herself on the prowl for a woman: beautiful, intelligent, and excellent in bed (an area she found Foreman _very _much lacking in).

Thirteen sighed as she wiped the steam away from her bathroom mirror. She had tried so hard to go out with a girl and transform the date into something more, but each time, her companion lacked something vital. Never could she pinpoint exactly what the essence of perfection was, but she knew she had yet to find it. Again Thirteen gazed at herself, wondering if the issue was her. Was she being too selective? Or maybe girls sensed something about her that caused them to act in an unfavorable manner. She couldn't be sure.

She laid her hand on the glass and, meeting her reflection palm to palm, wondered if it was too late to forever melt the icy exterior she had worked so strenuously to build all her life. She was who she was, and as House often said, _people don't change_.

Thirteen turned her face away from the mirror and was about to remover her hand when she felt a strong set of fingers grip her wrist and pull her back around. Her eyes went wide for a moment, believing that she stared into the face of the perfect woman. Her hair appeared soft, her eyes piercing. The woman's skin illuminated the room and her hips and torso curved in all the right places. Perched on her chest were two small, perky breasts, almost begging to be touched. When the shock cleared from her vision however, Thirteen realized that the beautiful creature holding her wrist was none other than herself, sitting seductively on the bathroom counter. The doppelganger brought Thirteen's hand to her lips and kissed it ever so gently. "Hello," the woman crooned.

Thirteen's mind entered a frantic mess of disbelief. This couldn't be, not at all. She must be dreaming, or she could have fallen back into old habits after a night of clubbing. There must be drugs involved, she decided. There were always drugs. "No drugs," the woman offered. Thirteen jumped. This was definitely a hallucination. "You're not seeing things either, love," she continued. "Look behind me, in the mirror." And sure enough, Thirteen did. Her reflection was gone. "I was there, and now I'm here. I'm Remy, by the way."

"That's impossible...," Thirteen began, but was cut off by the trail of butterfly kisses working its way up her slender, toned arm. Her breath hitched in her throat as Remy began to massage her right breast, eliciting a whimper from the still confused Thirteen.

"I think I'm you," Remy whispered against flushed skin. "Not exactly. You've changed a bit. I'm what you used to be. But that doesn't mean I don't know how to touch you. I mean, we do share a body." And sure enough, as Remy brought Thirteen in for a steamy, passionate kiss, the latter felt the familiar heat of arousal build within her, throbbing with pain and pleasure and primal need. "Let's move this to the bedroom." Remy placed an arm around Thirteen's waist and led her from the bathroom, shoving her onto the bed.

"Please," Thirteen pleaded, but was cut off by another searing kiss as Remy fell atop her. The woman's tongue worked wonders inside her mouth. With desire clouding her vision, Thirteen cared not where her double came from, but only that she could feel the wet heat of necessity pooling between her legs.

Remy began to suck and nip at Thirteen's neck, causing the target of her affections to release a gasp as she raised her hips, desperate for some friction. Remy forced her back down and worked her way slowly south, moving to her left breast and taking the nipple in her mouth, sucking at it and then circling it with her tongue until it hardened like a small pebble, all while massaging the other breast with her hand. Remy switched sides, taking note that Thirteen's contented sighs had begun a transformation to needy whimpers.

As Remy placed air kisses down her stomach, Thirteen squirmed in a weak attempt to beg for more. She was unsure of why or how, but she hadn't been so turned on since the first time she had slept with a girl during her freshman year of college. She allowed a moan to escape past her lips as Remy reached her shaven sex, dripping wet with the juices of desire. She ran a finger along Thirteen's slit slowly as she gazed up at her; sweaty, flushed, and aroused. She parted Thirteen's labia, noticing how the simple act seemed to drive the woman wild. Remy began to suck on her clit, and then circled it with her tongue.

Thirteen's soft moans and whimpers became cries and screams, probably loud enough to wake her neighbors on all sides. Then, just as Thirteen thought she couldn't hold it, Remy ceased her ministrations. The other woman instead moved to lap at her inner thighs and run her hands up and down her calves, marveling at the beauty of the body they shared.

"Do you want me?" Remy asked, her voice low and sultry. All Thirteen could do was nod. "Are you sure?" the woman continued probing. Thirteen nodded again, the fire in the pit of her torso not leaving.

Remy grinned mischievously at seeing the desperation on her lover's face. She then slid one finger into Thirteen and began to move it at a painfully slow pace, causing the woman underneath her to grind her hips into the hand to gain more penetration. As her breathing became heavy and erratic, the only coherent thought Thirteen could express was "More!" And so Remy obliged with another finger and a quickened pace, though for Thirteen, it still wasn't enough. She needed to be filled, and Remy knew how. Careful not to cause pain, she gradually added more fingers until she was fisting Thirteen harder than she ever had been. The woman moaned deeply and erotically until again, Remy snatched away her release, replacing her hand with her tongue.

The muscle flicked itself inside Thirteen, hitting all the right spots on the surface of her inner walls, circling and curling and stimulating. Remy smiled against her lover's sex as Thirteen's cries became more insistent and hot pleasure built itself up inside her. She felt like she would explode, and that she did as her climax finally took her and did so harder than she had ever experienced. Thirteen's breathing calmed as she rode out her orgasm and Remy moved up her body and pressed their identical lips together, giving Thirteen the rare opportunity to taste herself; salty, sweet, and bitter. Under normal circumstances, she would always return the favor, but she was exhausted and dozed off into sleep with Remy spread over her.

* * *

Thirteen woke in the morning, expecting to find her doppelganger still there. She was disappointed. Not even bothering with clothes, the young doctor stumbled into the bathroom to steal a glance at the mirror. Sure enough, the reflection was there, and it was no longer the Remy she was, but again the woman she had become. Thirteen was let down. She couldn't help but think that the perfect woman had just evaded her grasp.

* * *

**A/N:** Now review or I will withhold more of this delicious goodness from you all.


End file.
